


Pillowed by a Pin Cushion

by EchoIcicle



Category: The Handmaid's Tale (TV), The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
Genre: Age Play, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Forced Infantilism, Forced Orgasm, Forced Pregnancy, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mind Games, Mind Manipulation, Past Child Abuse, Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:55:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28654599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EchoIcicle/pseuds/EchoIcicle
Summary: Confession circles, beatings and indoctrinations were all effective ways of training handmaids at The Rachel and Leah Center.The results of making those poor women into god-fearing, child-bearing shells of who they once were have proven successful.But for a certain sadistic mind, there is a craving for something moreAunt Lydia happens to have a couple of ideas she wants to try out.Who better than the flame-headed Janine to become the Aunt’s new plaything?Be aware: Disturbing Content. This is a work of fiction. I do not condone any of the actions committed by these characters. Do NOT apply any of this story to real life.Chapters will be re-written with extra details
Relationships: Aunt Lydia Clements/Janine Lindo, Janine Lindo/Commander Putnam
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

Aunt Lydia toyed at the lamp switch with her thumb, debating which way she was to flick it. Every time she sat at her desk, journalling away her thoughts, she knew it could be the last time. The images had idly passed by the Aunt’s mind. 

Perhaps it would be the Eyes, storming into her study SWAT team style. Body slamming her into the ground, guns encircling her face. Maybe in a more riveting fashion, one of her students would approach her from behind and slit her throat with a a shiv crafted from a bed post. Girl-scout training was more than just doe-eyed cookie selling. 

Aunt Lydia settled her thumb down. A foggy glow of moonlight and a lamppost filled the study. She propped her feet down, using the toe of her boots to bring the stool towards her. Sighing with the cracks of joints, Aunt Lydia slid off her chair, closing her journal and bringing it with her and bent down into a squat. With the foot stool now off to the side, a vent was revealed. Prying it open, she slid her journal into place alongside a couple of it’s former editions. The other journals were a little more decorative. From her visits to the the children’s schools, she managed to snag a few small supplies. Bottles of glitter, some beads, stickers. With no plan in mind, the Aunt had crafted away. The childish enjoyment evidenced by the glitter glue sticking multiple pages together, and the stickers frayed at the book edges. Aunt Lydia brushed her fingers at her some flecks of glitter that had found themselves on the vent’s floor. At the reflection shimmery gold, she smiled. A hum and nod of amusement before wringing her hands, trying to tidy herself up. 

With one last push to make sure the vent was properly re-placed, Aunt Lydia got up, gently nudging the footstool back to it’s place with her toe. Like a guard, it served as protection of her treasure. The luxury of writing for pleasure, one that no woman was allowed to enjoy. One that she was to punish any of her students for indulging. 

Brushing at the wrinkles on her skirt, Aunt Lydia noticed that there were still some flecks of glitter on her skirt,

‘ Like those little brats , ‘ the aunt thought to herself as she rubbed at her fingers ‘ Like glitter, their stubbornness never seems to be rid of ‘

She thought back to earlier today. A new shipment of a few women, just a week ago. Surprisingly had not given her too much trouble. Likely due to their young age, they were just first-years in one of those partying, raving college. But they definitely juxtaposed their college’s reputation. They were just some troubled past, low-grades students who needed an excuse to get away from the city. Perhaps due to the school building of The Center, they had found themselves somewhat at home. Catching on quickly to the protocols of saying ‘ Yes Aunt Lydia, ‘ hands clasped on the desk in front of them. Like shy little girls they nodded when the teachers prompted, did their chores in a tidy manner. 

I don’t think l’ll be as lucky with the next batch, Aunt Lydia thought to herself. Taking a couple of strides over to a shelf opposite of her desk, she picked up a folder along with a couple of tapes. 

‘ Show the ladies how life was really like, ‘ One of the commanders told her. He waved a hand in front of his face as though wafting away a foul smell, his nose contorted in disgust. ‘ None of those filters or editing do-hickeys they were always using. Those glamorous models every girl wanted to look like? ‘ He leaned over the desk, rolling chain creaking as he tapped one of the tapes with a chipped finger nail ‘ Blowing chunks in a towel bowl. Snorting coke on dashboards. ‘ Aunt Lydia’s lips had tightened, nodding.

That should give me a couple of hours, she thought to herself, placing the tapes onto the center table. 

But what to do with the next trouble makers?

There could only be so many beatings. In fact, with all of those horror movies out there it would probably be expected, anti-climatic. 

Recalling the children in the schools she visited, Aunt Lydia noticed the more experienced brats were used to spankings and time-outs. Some even took pride in how many times they got dragged into the corner, or mooned their friends when the teachers weren’t looking. The red marks on their cheeks like trophies. Although she smirked at the witty behaviour, it somewhat appalled Aunt Lydia how far those children were going out of their way to rebel.

That would not do, no not at all. That defeated the whole point of discipline. It was regressive, not progressive. 

Now where was that term used? Regress... Aunt Lydia could remember her university days. Not just of the first times of drinks and sex, but the actual learning.

Aunt Lydia exited her study, pulling out the lanyard that had stuck between her breasts, she fumbled around the jingling keys for the one with a flower branded on the handle. She locked the door, slipping the lanyard back under her top before making her way down to the basement. She repeated the name in her head. Testing it again like it was an old wine from Catholic Communion, trying to grasp at it’s familiarity.

Freud  
Sigmund  
Sigmund Freud


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aunt Lydia heads over to Jezebels for ‘ research purposes ‘.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of: BDSM club, whipping, Nurse role play, Pet-play, age-play, diapers, and mummification
> 
> Nothing too graphic as of yet.

‘ What was this position called again?  
‘ Aunt Lydia thought to herself. She was curled up on the floor of the car, cloaked under the dark robe suited for the wife of a commander. ‘ Was it downward dog? Or child pose? ‘

“ Have a good night sir, “ As the window went back up, the car started moving forward.

After a few moments, Aunt Lydia heard, “ All clear, “

She flipped her hood back up, situating herself back in the seat. Huffing in annoyance, Aunt Lydia pushed wayward strands of hair back behind her ears. 

“ You oughta clean up your floor a little more thoroughly, “ she said, fastening her seatbelt. 

Commander Judd smiled, “ Javier, “ he said to the driver, “ Remember to sweep up the pork crumbs, eh?”

“ Yes sir, “ Javier replied.

Commander Judd turned back to Aunt Lydia, “ You seem to fit quite well in those, “ he remarked flicking a finger at the woman next to him. “ You ever found yourself a man? “

Aunt Lydia looked herself up and down, before shaking her head. The outfit seemed so unlike her usual green attire. 

“ Not one worth keeping. And I certainly can’t have one now, “ 

Commander Judd nodded, turning his head to the window. The streetlight cast a faint yellow glow on his cheeks.

“ A small sacrifice for your noble work, Ms. Clements “

‘ Noble ‘ Aunt Lydia nearly scoffed ‘ more slave labor ‘

As the vehicle pulled up in front of the building, the aunt and Commander unbuckled their seatbelts. Aunt Lydia got out first, by habit, brushing off her skirt. The cool wind caused her shiver, she pulled her cloak in, arms crossed.

With a wave, Commander Judd stepped out of the car, loosening his collar. 

The two walked into Jezebels where they handed the bouncer their jackets and parted ways with few words. Aunt Lydia made her way through, passing the bar and lounge, heading to the elevator. Three floors down later, she stepped into darkness. 

“ Ow! “ 

Startled, Aunt Lydia looked down to see that a man had crawled in front of her. He clutched at one of his paw-shaped gloves, trying to mitigate the stepped on fingers underneath. The strange attire consisted of a leather mask shaped like a dog head, a bulky collar with cartoon orange and blue dog bones patterned on it, white boxers with a clip on tail.

“ You mutt! “

A tall black woman wearing a mahogany leather leotard and bunny eared headband stomped over to where the two were. She had a leash wrapped her left hand, which she quickly buckled onto the man’s collar as she tugged him away. 

Aunt Lydia blinked a couple of times. The elevator dinged, signalling that she was holding it up. She shook her head beginning to walk forward. The place was dark with a dark purple and pink lighting to it. There were all sorts of odd displays Aunt Lydia could not help but ogle at. She made sure to watch her feet, tiptoeing around a few human pets. At one of the tables she saw a man holding up a straw to the bright red lips of a woman encased in leather so tight it stretched up and down with her swallows. At the bar, there was a woman dressed in a sexy red and white nurse unfiorm donning a hat with a red cross, dabbing a stained cotton swab on a crying man’s back. Aunt Lydia glanced away quickly.

Lyrics blared:

Choke me like you hate me but you love me, low-key wanna date me while you

“ Fuck me! “ A high-pitched voice yelled. 

Aunt Lydia leaned to the right where the voice was coming from, she made her way towards a soft yellow light around a corner. 

“ Sorry for saying naughty words, “ The high-pitched voice said, 

“ Sorry for saying naughty words, what? “ replied a woman’s voice.

Aunt Lydia’s jaw dropped at the sight. Before her was what looked just like a nursery. Floor padded by soft lettered mats, random toys scattered about. She laid a hand on the small fenced gate, peering inside. 

“ Mommy, I’m sorry, “ the high pitched voice belonged to a senior woman. She was on her knees, grey strands of curly hair swooped around a ridiculously large frilly bonnet. A large baby blue diaper, cushioned her bottom. She rubbed an eye with her hand, the other hand held by another woman sat on a bench. The other woman wore average pre-gilead clothes, jeans with a plain white sweat shirt. She wagged a finger at the kneeling, diapered woman.

“ Hi old lady! “

Aunt Lydia held a hand up to her chest. She wondered how many more surprises she could take. Looking down, She saw a balding man, kneeling on other other side of the gate. The wisps at the side of his head had multiple sparkly hair clips, he stared up at Aunt Lydia with big eyes.

“ Come play with me, old lady! “

He said, undoing the latch on the gate, before it was even fully open, he already managed to get a hold on Aunt Lydia’s hand. She stumbled in, nearly tripping on the matted floor. 

“ Ohh chip! “

The man, completely forgetting about his new friend the old lady, dove onto the floor. His overall covered, thickly padded buttom up in the air.

“ No baby, no! “

Aunt Lydia made eye contact with a woman striding towards the man from across the room.

The woman froze mid-step. Recognition and familiarity slowly dawning across her face.

“ Lyds? “ she muttered

“ Noelle? “

**Author's Note:**

> If you can recall, Noelle was the mother of one of Aunt Lydia’s fourth grade students.  
> Taking some creative freedom, I am going to be changing Noelle’s involvement in Aunt Lydia’s past a little bit. 
> 
> Considering in the tv show Lydia was a teacher and in the Testaments she was a lawyer, I might make her role a CPS worker or something in youth justice. Just to have it make sense and to cater to both source materials.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
